


Internal Perspective

by Ane_Rhapsodos



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Pre-Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 13:37:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1650539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ane_Rhapsodos/pseuds/Ane_Rhapsodos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sephiroth always knew he wasn't normal, but for a time that didn't matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Internal Perspective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KittenFair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenFair/gifts).



> Request 2  
> Fandom(s): Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII  
> Request:  
> Despite common fanon that Sephiroth was abused/experimented on his whole life, in Crisis Core, Sephiroth says 'I knew mine was a special existence, but this is not what I meant' - which begs the question, what WAS life like for Sephiroth growing up? Technically, this could take place well before any of the above canons, so it's highly flexible. His age is as well, but ideally somewhere that at least covers him being old enough to think about things, and notice - at least superficially - that he's 'different' in some way. What way is that? WHY is that, and how does it affect him? He states clearly that he believes Jenova was his mother, and his laughter suggests he at least THOUGHT he knew who his father was as well. Some things to consider, perhaps.

The first time he had been able to interact with others his age had been strange. He was brought to the barracks and told which bunk was his, given only minutes before being escorted to another room full of people. All of which he couldn't help but note were taller than him by a foot or more. He was unsure of their ages, but the ones in the same uniform he wore seemed 'young' in one way or another, several having the red marks all over their faces that some of the assistants always threw fits over. He had never understood what the fuss was about, he had never suffered the odd skin ailment.

 

He also couldn’t help but notice that none of them were enhanced yet as he was - and like in the labs no one had the same type of hair. He spotted a few blonds, but while pale it was nothing like his own. Sephiroth had thought perhaps in being around others his age he would find he wasn’t so _different_ after all, but he was failing to find any similarities other than gender between himself and the other cadets.

 

Especially once they were released to the mess hall and he realized just how noisy they all were. He’d felt like covering his ears with his hands when they had immediately started trying to talk over everyone else, leaving his head pounding and keeping him from noticing the food wasn’t the same ‘nutritionally balanced’ mush and bread he was used to in the labs.

 

Then came the teasing - the bullying had ended a quick death when they realized he was physically enhanced and fully able to throw the biggest of them through a wall. He was demeaned for being shorter even than the two other cadets his age, for being so slim, for his messily cut short hair, for his ‘freakish eyes’ as one had put it.

 

And when they’d learned he was _afraid of swimming_ and could barely hit the edge of a target with a rifle, it was worse. He’d only had one person he vaguely considered a friend and that was only because the other boy constantly sought his company. He never felt the need to socialize and interact with the other cadets, content to occupy himself in solitary acts.

 

Not that it kept him from listening in to conversations and puzzling through the strange things he heard. About siblings, and dating, and he really didn’t understand why they all seemed obsessed with sex and why they felt the need to interrupt his sleep with rather unstealthy self gratification only feet away from his bunk in the crowded room.

 

In a small fit of rebellion he’d taken to dismantling anything the other cadets used as an alarm while they slept so that he could actually attend his morning training without feeling like his ears were bleeding. Admittedly watching those who slept in getting in trouble was very amusing. ‘Reamed’ was the term he believed was used to describe it most often.

 

As he grew older, first as a SOLDIER and only a few years later as General, Sephiroth’s mental tally of how he was different from others only grew. His attempts at jokes and teasing more often than not missed or taken as insults. Leaving him rather surprised when he found two people that seemed to find his social missteps amusing rather than insulting.

 

Though Genesis still seemed to think his teasing were insults most of the time at first - the end result a number of bruises on them both and ears ringing from a lecture. And wasn’t it strange to be lectured after a life of being _not_? Hojo had certainly never lectured him - only ranted about one thing or another, even as a boy the silveret had been left to learn his mistakes and puzzle out how to fix them on his own.

 

He became rather good at puzzling things out - though some things even as an adult caught him up short and left him baffled. He still didn’t understand why Genesis seemed so confused at learning he had never had a sexual relationship in his life. There had been some sort of rant about fanclubs that he had mostly tuned out.

 

Parents... were still yet another thing that confused him. He’d heard so many different things, some people had none, Angeal’s father had died when he was a child leaving him to be raised by his mother. Who had apparently helped raise Genesis as well despite the boy having a set of rich adoptive parents.

 

His own were even more confusing. Hojo had told him his mother’s name was Jenova, and he often overheard him speaking about her as if she were alive. Yet, he distinctly remembered a time when he was small where he told him his mother was dead after he had learned what a mother was. And the man had been silent when he’d asked about his father - but the assistants never seemed to realize he could overhear them...

 

_“ - to his own son! You’ve seen how he treats him... what if that was your boy in there, could you condone those surgeries he does on him?”_

_“He’s not my son. And you need to be careful what you say. Raldson said much the same and you don’t see him around anymore now do you?”_

_“But-!”_

_“You can do nothing for him.”_

_“His heart stopped during the last one! He’s not even ten years old!”_

_“Don’t you think I know that -”_

 

He never did see that assistant again after that. Which wasn’t out of the ordinary, any assistant who did any more talking than strictly necessary never lasted long under Hojo’s eye. And the one that had warned her didn’t seemed overly affected - the very next day he was back to his extracurricular activities with someone new in the cell next to his room. And here Genesis wondered how he seemed so desensitized to anything related to sex...

 

After all, growing up hearing it practically every day left him rather far from a ‘blushing virgin’ at the use of innuendo. And while he could identify someone as attractive, it wasn’t a lustful observation but more a statement of aesthetic fact.

 

What use would it be anyway? Any lover he might choose would fall under Hojo’s clinical eye. A male would likely disappear like the many assistants, a female... would likely be coerced into submitting to the many appointments he had once been forced to. Any child of his would be at risk of going through his own childhood, something he would never wish after seeing how a child was supposed to be raised.

 

He hadn’t even known what sugar was until he spotted an ice cream truck the first time out on the Plate unsupervised. Sugar wasn’t exactly on the list of ‘nutritional foods’ Hojo had attempted to get him to adhere to. So of course candy and soda both become staples in his diet much to the man’s constant anger. It was strangely satisfying to rebel in little ways from the man who had raised him and treated him as little more than a prized specimen to be studied and given only essential care. Eating sweets, growing his hair out from the ‘practical’ short mess it once was, skipping paperwork to read a new novel, or spending all night awake playing a new game only to function on energy drinks the next day...

 

His father was no father, and his mother... was either dead or had abandoned him - either way it didn’t matter. Sephiroth shook his head to dismiss his thoughts and continuing walking to his destination. He would never have had a ‘normal’ childhood even if he had been raised in a traditional fashion... _Normal_ children didn’t look the way he did, _normal_ children couldn’t overpower grown men at the age of five.

 

What use was it to linger on something that could have never been?

 

“Sephiroth!” He stopped midstep at the call, glancing behind him but not turning fully. Allowing the heavier set Banoran to come to him instead. “There you are, Genesis wanted you to come by earlier to help him. He just got a new batch of apples from home.”

 

Bow lips quirked in amusement, “An hour earlier will suffice I assume?” At the nod they became a proper small smile. “Then I will see you both at five tonight.”

 

What did it matter that he was special... when he had managed to find two others who were special to _him_.


End file.
